Tag: Emotions

  • When there is nothing, but relief

    I wonder – does ‘grief-guilt’ exist?

    Not the ‘I should have done this’ ‘ I could have prevented something happening’ kind of guilt – when there is grief – a bit like this

    But more, like , that feeling when you’re expected by other people to feel grief for the loss of something – and yet you have nothing?

    Like, that feeling when you’re meant to feel loss and pain – and you’d feel like you were pretending to feel anything close like that?

    Like, that feeling when you then feel guilty for ‘not’ feeling the way others might do about a situation, when actually that feeling of grief – is no where to be found?

    Grief-guilt.

    Guilt for not feeling grief – when somehow you’re supposed to feel grief – because the person who is talking to you would feel grief…

    Guilt for not being able to muster up any sense of emotional feeling – because, there is nothing.

    Grief-guilt – because Im meant to feel something?

    I know what grief feels like, feelings that overcome, that aching, of missing something and someone. Just shitty tears. Shitty tears that hurt.

    Love filled tears of loss, of someone I loved, and loved me back.

    Grief reserved for those for whom there is love.

    As I watched ‘The Boy called Christmas’, something was helpfully revealed to me

    Grief is the price we pay for love. And it is worth it, a thousand times over

    Matt Haig (A Boy Called Christmas, on Netflix now)

    It is.

    Grief is the price we pay for love.

    So – what happens when there wasn’t actually love?

    Grief may just be hard to find?

    You’ll miss them when they’re gone’ Some people often say.

    If you’ve not walked the path of toxic, narcissist, psychopathic parents – who ‘look’ like ‘nice’ people to everyone else – you dont really know.

    And by the way – they haven’t died…

    But I have taken huge steps in the last 2 years to remove them from my life.

    And bring others into the collective space of seeing them for who they are, and have always been ..forever.

    And they have, and do.

    Which has been really hard work – and no doubt many of you have stopped reading what I write… its painful stuff, I’m sure.

    So I don’t feel grief for the loss of the relationship with my parents – even though im possibly meant to, because , I think Matt Haig nailed it – Grief is the price we pay for love.

    If there was a relationship in the first place – there would be something to grieve over.

    But its always been the way it always has been.

    There was no ‘way things were’ – so there was no ‘restoration’ or ‘reconciliation’ – fine ideals, and even manipulative standpoints – a broken relationship implies that there was actually something.

    I might grieve the person of myself who had to hide for decades under the shroud of trauma – though that person is feeling safe to play again, to live and love

    I might grieve the lost time

    I might grieve the love I didn’t have , especially when I see it in others – and know that its ok

    Or the Cards I couldn’t send

    But it’s ok not to feel that actual tear stained, shitty, painful grief for those who have abused us, the caregivers who were meant to do more. I think we need to say this. It’s ok.

    Save the grief for those we actually loved, and who loved us back in truth. Those who natured and protected us, for even glimpses in our lives.

    We have enough actual feelings to feel, to notice and accept – the grief for those who we have actually lost, loved ones – that forcing feelings (to avoid shame) doesnt feel right at all.

    So grief-guilt – can go its merry way and jump the hell off.

    Permission to not feel grief. Permission to tell the grief guilt to be dispelled.

    None of us need to force grief, or be forced to. It’ll happen if it happens.

    So what do I actually feel?

    I feel peace. I feel free. I feel safe. I feel big.

    Vindication is a hard fought battle.

    I might feel relief.

    Maybe ‘Grilief’ is a more appropriate word.

    The combination of grief and relief – if theres grief at all.

  • Allowing Shit to Settle

    No thanks

    I’d rather pretend the shit didn’t exist thank you very much

    I’d rather add a whole layer of other stuff on top of it

    I’d rather pretend that the shit was actually roses without any thorns

    I’d rather do avoid the shit, and run and hide away

    I’d rather distract from the shit

    Id rather bypass the shit and say it was just God’s plan for me to endure

    I’d rather keep busy that sit with it.

    I’d rather cover it up with comforting food

    Or hope that entertainment soothes it

    Or scroll on Facebook to take on even more, or get annoyed at something else

    Or go to a football match or do some exercise to ‘get the anger out’

    I can’t allow it to settle

    That would mean accepting

    Feeling it, smelling it

    Sensing it in its fullest sense

    Realising that it exists

    And it has affected me

    And I feel sad, I feel angry, I feel hurt,I feel..what ever this dose of shit makes me feel

    Rage, hurt, tears, coming out, from amidst the shit

    And then

    The voice from within that says, you are not the shit

    I am not the shit, I am bigger than it

    I let it, but it isn’t devouring me, I can feel it, look at it, and realise that I am me, and the shit isn’t me

    Even if I am in it or have been given it

    It’s not a place to want to stay and now that I’ve felt it, I can move away

    And not keep it buried, hidden or avoided to come back to..and deal with, another day. Piling more and more above it

    Naming it, feeling it, sensing it, letting it settle, and be

    And breathe, and know, that I am more, I am bigger, I can see

    That there’s a way out, that I can take, and in the quiet of nothing

    That voice , that me, is waiting to speak, and heal, repair and recover, rebuild and remake

    And Ill look at the shit one day from a different place, and realise how far I am from it, and I needn’t look back, because I dealt with it once, twice or many

    Clean air awaits, entices and breathes, it’s fresh and it’s pure, green grass in the fields awaiting our feet

    It’ll only feel good when I haven’t cheated, and try to enjoy it with a bag full of shit, I’m still carrying around, or buried deep, hoping never to be found.

    Letting it settle and letting it be

    Is part of the way of making me free.

    (thank you to Gabriella Russo on Facebook for the image)

  • Boys and their Abused Dads

    Boys and their Abused Dads

    As a youth worker you get to hear alot of stories and moral panics about abusive or absent Dads, and the effect this has on children. It is often in regard to the behaviour of those children, especially in education or criminal contexts. Theres a cry for ‘better role models‘ – assuming that parental role models aren’t good enough. It is easy to blame the parents.

    The same rhetoric was used in those ‘christian’ mid nineties evangelical circles too that I grew up in, anyone else remember the ‘Even if your Dad was ______, God is a perfect father’ type stuff. Usually the reference to a Dad being abusive or absent. Strange thing then, that during those times there was little critique on that ‘perfect’ father sending a son to die.

    I digress, and the discussion on absent or abusive fathers doesn’t really need repeating here, only to note how pejorative it is, and only too often, sadly and tragically, how common this is, and with the misuse of concepts like ACES*, children and young people are predicted behaviour and outcomes based on this in state settings, and barely given a chance to be different at times.

    But my experience is different. And so might yours be.

    What about a boy raised by an abused Dad?

    Ive just tried googling images for ‘Abused Dad’ – have a guess at what I found?

    This:

    Note what emerges.

    Article and article about Abusive Dads and Fathers. men who abuse their wives, their children, who dominate, hit, provoke, sexually abuse, financially abuse and the list terrifyingly goes on…..

    Not Dads who are abused themselves.

    I watched this a few weeks ago

    In the TED talk above, Justin reflects on the qualities of his Dad, and how growing up he was determined to be different – Justin didnt want to be soft, kind and gentle – only to realise later that these were good qualities to have, and were part of his core.

    So I pose myself the question; What kind of a Man did I learn from my own Dad?

    Let’s start with the positives – everyone, outside, and some inside the family love my Dad. He would do anything for anyone, mostly in a practical way – fixing, decorating, making, constructing, he is softly spoken and rarely impulsive. He worked hard, and didnt cause or create any stress or drama.

    But the rest of the time, he was a ghost. He was belittled and devalued, and threatened, walking on eggshells all the time. He could only obey the other parent, becoming the flying monkey, the accomplice, completely untrustworthy. He tolerated being lied to, by someone who was gaslighting him all the time. I dont remember him ever expressing his needs, ideas or dreams, and was told what to do nearly all the time. His invisibility extended to offering almost no nurturing or protection at all – deferring everything to the other parent, someone so sunk that they couldn’t be a healthy father figure at all. One who conceded.

    I could go on, as there is more, and none of this is to be critical of him – given the extent of the manipulation he has suffered – this is more to reflect on what its like being Male, and a Dad, and growing up with an Abused Dad.

    For one, there is almost nothing to read on this – even some of the emotionally ‘immature’ parent books defer to general characteristics of dominating Dad figures – and as I said above – try doing a google search.

    Boys or Girls and their Abusive Mother figure may come up, but what are the effect on a child of their abused Dad?

    What kind of Man/Masculinity did I see, and experience growing up?

    Someone passive to women or others needs – no regard of their own

    Someone with no role with their children

    Someone with no voice

    Someone weak

    Someone who accepted being lied and pretended to

    Someone who is weaponised by the other

    Just a tool for someone else to get what they want.

    I reflect on these, not with anger or bitterness, not with remorse or grief, but a sense of being in the process of understanding what the effect of an abused male care-giver had on my life – and not just an abusive female role-care giver. The abused dad rarely gets talked about, hen-pecked might be a mild term for emotionally manipulated.

    I think what i’m trying to come to terms with is how challenging it is to try and talk about this, ‘some dads are abused too’ ..’some men are abused in domestic abuse relationships’ ‘some boys have emotionally abused fathers too’ – and what’s likely is that these situations are so likely to go under the radar. As that boy, might be kind, sensitive and attuned to the needs of others – and not themselves, that boy might be more likely bullied than a bully, that boy might like the quiet life, that boy might have issues with women – or find themselves in relationships with dominating women, that boy might struggle in a number of ways, but those ways might not be as evident as they dont fit the stereotype, if stereotypes are there to be fitted into anyway. They’re unlikely to be loud in a crowd and make a scene – getting attention.

    That boy, might also struggle to know ‘how to be a man’ ….

    When the female parent once told me to ‘stand up for myself’ it was ironic in that that was something she wouldn’t allow to happen to her, by my Dad. Stand up against bullies…but not the one in the home… a man is never right, a man always gives way, a man doesn’t have an opinion… oh and I knew I would have been punished had I hit that boy back….

    I heard the advice as a teenager; ‘At least you’ll know how to treat a woman, given the way your Dad is‘ or words to that effect, and from a trusted source I internalised this, probably too much – to the detriment of treating myself, and being passive, putting myself lowest emotionally on the pecking order, because as I reflect I wonder how much that person saw and knew, and with the benefit of hindsight, the behaviour that has occurred 30 odd years since.

    I reflect on also on the question of how all these things, and more, might be similar to children who grow up with the experience of their mum being emotionally, physically, sexually or spiritually abused, and what that is like for them, and whilst I clock it here as being highly significant and impactful in their life. This isn’t , as I say my experience, but I want to note it – and whilst its significantly more common, it doesn’t make it any less damaging on the child – this is in no way a comparison piece, but something I wanted to recognise.

    There are plenty of cold maternal figures in the world, and plenty of female narcissists/psychopaths that go under the radar, yet alot rise in politics, business and also the church, and yet their damage to the men in relationships (and other females in their friendships) as well as their children is being more and more well known. What we don’t want to talk about is that Mothers have are cold, colder than ice, with only pretence of warmth, if that. So what might that mean for the Male parent, and how being the victim of domestic abuse , has on they children they have? – especially for their boys? What about the children, the boys, who get caught up the female narcissists loyalty games against that abused Dad? What kind of male/masculinity does that boy grow up with? What kind of insecurities might they have to deal with? What did I? The list is extensive – alot of written about already in my story above.

    For the Boys growing up with Abused Dads – what is that like for you? What resources have you found to be helpful in this? Have you found some good articles on this – please do share them below, it would be great to have comments and conversation on this, if you want to get in touch and share a story or piece on this, do let me know.

    And, to finish with that theological premise at the beginning, I can’t help but wonder what kind of God I internalised given the association that was made between earth and heaven Father figures.

    Maybe this is a conversation we need to have – whats it like growing up with an abused Dad?

    *ACES – Adverse Childhood Experiences

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  • On being a Man, and ‘Man Enough’ : I quite liked this

    Over the last few weeks, because of a combination of some self-realisations, and also being under the weather with ‘the worst cold in history‘ I have been watching TED talks, and you know me, ive not been attracted to the science, technology or ‘how to make it in business TED talks’ but the ones on emotional health, growth and vulnerability.

    I was in a bit of despair, for at one point all I was finding was women talking about emotions and wondering ‘where are the men?’

    Do men talk about this stuff – or on TED is it men who talk about ‘leadership’ and ‘creativity’ and women who talk emotions, relationships, vulnerability and sex.. almost..

    Then I found the one above, with Justin Baldini…. in which he also asks the question..where are the men? as well as being self reflective about the culture of growing up male, of masculinity, and about pretending. Pretending being an actor, playing roles of men that were nothing like he was as a person.

    I quite liked it. So ive posted it here, so that you might want to have a look too.

    Or so that you know where it is

    Do let me know what you think, what questions does this TED talk raise for you?

    What did you like, what did you not?

    Men, are there Men in your life you talk real to? – are there men in my life?

    Do comment below:

  • Fake grass and our emotional well being

    I grew up with a small understanding of tools.

    My Dad was, and still is, a very practical man, the shed and garage was full of saw, drills, spanners, screwdrivers, bits of wood, metal, nails, screws, pipes, plastic, levers, sawdust..loads of sawdust and grime , my Dad was a self employed Plumber and heating engineer, and basically everyones favourite repair man in the town.

    We didnt even have a car, we travelled around on a bench in the back of ‘the van’ , shovelled in to a space that in the weekdays was also a home for work bags, tool boxes and the dust sheets. The same tools built and redeveloped our entire house (as well as everyone elses).

    Used in the wrong way tools were harmful, some blades were sharp, some drills too heavy and powerful for even an enthusiastic 7 year old to use, some tools were the wrong ones selected for the job, some tools will make jobs easier, some harder, depending on what you wanted to do. The grass could be cut with scissors, but its not worth it, hand sawing wood at times very hard work, not worth it on some occasions.

    But that kind of makes sense, doesnt it, selecting the right tool for the job, when cutting the grass, making a shelf, wood turning or refitting a gas boiler?

    And the tools we select for finance work or academia or community work – are also honed, cultivated, chosen, practiced and reflected on, for the purposes of the task in hand, to be effective, meaningful, quick, cooperative or productive.

    As some of you may know, and from my other blog (Learning from the Streets) , One of the books I have been reading this year is this one

    The English Pastoral by James Rebanks. Its a true story about the changes in farming in the last 100 years, compared to the previous 1600 years, though there were changes in medieval farming, to rotational farming, and then with the intensity farming with the development of fertilisers, chemicals and so called efficiency. Do have a read. Its ultimately fascinating.

    One of the things he says towards the end of the book, and throughout is that farming is precedented on the ongoing quality of the soil and how this affects everything, crop growth, wildlife and ecosystems, all of which are important for the present and future.

    But what he concedes is that one of the principle tools that has brought the most disaster, ecologically, is the one piece of equipment that farming has relied on for centuries.

    The Plough.

    The plough breaks open the soil, exposes it to the harsh realities of the weather, disrupts nutrients and ecosystems. Its a staggering thing to admit for farmers (p239), it’s like saying that church buildings are harmful for Clergy or calculators for economists.

    So in understanding about the need for the quality for soil to be preserved that new, or maybe older ways of farming, and a change of tools is required.

    In our understanding of soil – there is a requirement, for a number of reasons to change the tools – if we want to restore, preserve and maintain the health of the soil. If farming pushes on regardless with chemicals, responding to profits and supermarket demands, the tools are items of destruction. But only if different motivations about the meaning of life, and the countryside and ecology are changed.

    So, what about us? As individuals? As Men..specifically?

    What about Emotional tools, rather than the physical ones?

    If our life is about the ‘bottom dollar’, work and efficiency – what might be the cost? And what tools do we use in dealing with emotions, when money and profit are the main motivation.

    I can say, that diverting, distraction, hiding, pretending were the tools I used for emotions, because that was the only option I had. They were the only emotional tools I had in my tool box.

    What are the tools you’re using, that without realising are causing long term harm? Is putting off dealing with difficult emotions your way of coping ? is it go through the motions of work, drink, sport, sleep and back to work again without any recognition of being a person with emotions – unless its about getting drunk and being angry? In the same way you might re decorate a room – what parts of you need some attention? Whats the quality of your soil like? Full of life? or dry? barren, lifeless?

    What damage was that doing to me? What damage might it be doing to you?

    Did I value the very thing all life stemmed from, the soil of my heart, my soul or mind? Did I love myself? What part of me was being destroyed – for the sake of what?

    Tools may have been given to us as children growing up, explicitly or implicitly about how to grow up, what was expected of us, what rules to keep, what to value, what to not – and for some of us those tools may well have been the suitable ones for life and to enjoy it, but thats not the case for everyone, when my therapist asked me what guidance I had growing up from my parents, I struggled – I knew what not to have done after the event, but tools for life? hmm not so sure

    We might still reach for the wrong tool, without knowing other tools are even available – new pain experienced, old tool grabbed for. Same pain or experience, same tool, same pattern, same again…and its ok…start to see the pattern…

    What tools did you receive – when dealing with emotions – that without realising are damaging you? Which are you trying to deny space to work and deal with? Are you avoiding? Are you digging a hole with the wrong tool? Or trying to cover over the cracks with a temporary grass , that looks good, but is ecologically disaster ?

    Other people, even those close to us, are giving us nods and hunches all the time that we have stuff to unlearn, to see differently, to have the nudge to change – they see things we dont always. A new tool might be required for a moment, that we might default into distract or divert, deny or depress – when it might be better to accept, to feel, to open up, to listen, to respond. Fear might keep us using old tools, loving ourselves, and others might help us to pick a new tool out of the toolbox, its not a hammer with a blunt edge, but a delicate chisel, to sculpt, shape, mould, gently.

    New growth in a farm without a plough takes time. Its the same as dig free allotment gardening. But, nature does recover. It just need humans to help it, not destroy it.

    Maybe its time to realise the damage of our old toolkit, thank it for what it brit, made and kept safe, but a new us requires new tools. Theres pain in throwing out the old equipment that served us well, but maybe its time for something new. What of your behaviours feels like the plough? And maybe thats the one to talk about, to be vulnerable about, to seek professional help about, maybe its time to put the nutrients into the soil and grow from goodness and depth.

    100th Post!

    Thank you for reading and sharing and liking my written work here on Healing for Men – ive just noticed that this is my 100th piece, so, I just wanted to thank you for all your encouragement and support. If you would like to make a small gift contribution please do click the link on the right. Thank you all

  • Confronting Shame No 1 – Don’t be weak Emotionally

    I took a while to do this.

    A very long time in fact, because I had conditioned myself to numb the pain, to survive and also that I had only my own resources to get through things.

    You might imagine, that in having supportive parents you might find there shame in getting to the point where your marriage had broken down – but at least you’d be possibly assured of support afterwards. Imagine having the opposite. Imagine what its like knowing that you’d have to manage their emotions when you’re going through your stuff. So you dont bother.

    So I learned to pretend.

    Imagine being in a faith culture- being in churches, working for churches, being a youth worker, being well known – and also having to hide, numb and pretend that the reality doesnt exist. When you think, that everyone else thinks, that you might be happy and ok – but they dont ask and I avoid being asked.

    It took me a long while to know that doing this for more than 20 years. It took me the same length of time to try and bring to light childhood horrors into the open either.

    Why?

    Why couldn’t I do this?

    Why when ‘Vulnerability’ hit me like a drug in early 2019 it was like a refreshing new thing, but was as if I couldn’t help but tell bits of my story, the real stuff.

    Shame, as Brene Brown says, is the belief that we might not be accepted in loved – if our truth is revealed.

    Talk to me about the things that I was good at – and good at ‘despite’ my parents, and maybe thats the thing, if Brene Brown is right – then shame is “I am Bad’ rather than ‘I do bad things’ – somehow I had been gifted the shame of being responsible for the situation I was in, because of being a child of narcissist parents, it could never be their fault or responsibility…so whose might it be..yup..mine.

    In his book The Courage of Hopelessness, Slavoj Zizek writes in the first few pages about the ethical dilemma of those who smoke cigarettes but can give up, and the moral ethical dilemma of the ‘choice’ of giving up, the freedom to give up, and also the imperative to, going on to say that its only when someone is desperate, on their sick bed, and at the pit of hopelessness do they realise that they have no choice but to, for their own survival, that they do. I am yet to read more of his book, but this in the first few pages stuck. Survival Shame meant, for me, just keeping going, getting through it, same patterns, same torment, same gnawing unhappiness, same abuse, until the desperate me had to ask for help.

    Richard Rohr talks about a vulnerability moment, a breakdown (Falling Upwards)

    Eckhart Tolle describes his own, aged 30 (The power of Now) , as does Brene Brown herself.

    It took hopelessness – to get through the layers of shame.

    I couldn’t see things whilst I was hiding in and amongst it.

    Though I was right about the parents, and at the time so glad I was somewhere actually emotionally safe.

    Back to Brene Brown – in her TED talk I referred to in my previous blog, she talked about the 4 aspects of society that Men have to live up to ‘to be a man’,

    Emotional Control,

    Status,

    Job

    and Violence…

    Well I re watched it again yesterday with Christelle, and realised Brené said something else:

    For Women, Shame is

    Do it all, Do it perfectly and never let them see you sweat

    For Men, Shame is just one thing:

    Do not be perceived as weak

    Brene Brown (TED, 2012)

    In the area of Emotional control, one of the fours aspects above that Men have to live up to – how does being weak in this area bring about shame?

    are you any of these..I might be

    I know I can be ‘open’ like this – but I know I struggle to show emotions and be emotional even with people I feel safe with

    I didnt want to look weak – by going to therapy – and yet im going back for more

    I would prefer to fix than ‘not know’

    I would rather hide and pretend than admit I need help

    Being vulnerable – genuinely vulnerable is a weakness

    No one at work had better know if im struggling – I couldn’t bear it

    People like me, dont talk about struggles – we’re always ‘fine’

    Numb your own pain – those emotions are not as important as other peoples

    In my job I look after other people – I have to stay strong…

    Dont be soft, you’ll get walked over

    What might you add to this list? What might you have said to yourself?

    If Emotional control is one of the expectations – and fear of being weak the main shame for men – what might this look like for you.. what does it look like for me?

    You might ask about whether you need to have an awareness breakdown moment before realising that there is a different way to be about shame and vulnerability – and in truth I do not know the answer, that may be down to your attachment style (healthy) and childhood and all the coping mechanisms – and whether you have places to be emotionally safe. Maybe you dont need to have a breakdown and get to being hopeless to start making the change – maybe you were brought up with good acceptance of your emotions as a boy from family and friends. Only you reading this know.

    It could manifest in the fear of needing to be looked after, or the fear of having to ask for help, or not giving away our emotions, or staying in survival mode, or distract from real feelings mode, or taking medications to numb the pain…

    Vulnerability isnt a weakness – it is part of our every day lives – its risky and scary – it is part of who we are- and that includes us as men too.

    This is possibly part 1 in a series on vulnerability, in which Ill write on the 4 societal aspects described above and share a little about how they have affected me, and possibly other men too.

    If you have a story to share about Shame, and vulnerability – and emotional control – do put it below or email me , and with your permission id love to share.

    Maybe its time to name the weakness, name that it is not weak, to challenge the culture in which this manifests – I deserve better, our boys deserve better, women deserve better – Society is better for healthier men in it.

    There is more on this in depth in this article https://www.redbookmag.com/love-sex/mens-perspective/interviews/a14409/brene-brown-shame-vulnerability/

    This piece in psychology today is also helpful, for parents and partners of boys https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/revolutionary-thoughts/201708/men-in-relationships-3-keys-emotional-vulnerability%3famphttps://www.google.com/amp/s/www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/revolutionary-thoughts/201708/men-in-relationships-3-keys-emotional-vulnerability%3famphttps://www.google.com/amp/s/www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/revol

  • Is ‘It’s OK for Men to cry’ too simple to say?

    Is ‘It’s OK for Men to cry’ too simple to say?

    Its ok for men to cry

    Is said often. But I was wondering whether its said too often, without any thought about the complexity of this.

    I wonder if it’s said too easily.

    I wonder if women need to hear this message too.

    So its not just men who need to hear that its ok to cry.

    But its not just ok for men to cry. It should be ok for men and women to express their emotions.

    It should be ok, but often it isnt.

    Its not just men that have trouble expressing emotions.

    Its not just men but women too who have been unable to express emotions because its has been unsafe too, since birth often.

    Cant get them out.

    Cant show them

    Cant be seen to be not in control

    Cant be ‘not the stable one’

    Cant be the one who has to rely on others

    Cant be the one that doesn’t look like they are coping.

    Cant be the one who is vulnerable

    Cant be the one who isnt holding things together

    Because. Men do cry.

    They cry when their team gets relegated.

    They cry at movies

    They cry.. with other men, when..everyone is crying.

    So they do cry.

    But maybe its that we men find it difficult to cry about something relating to ourselves, or..in front of the people who we’re meant to be responsible for, emotionally.

    Its not as straight forward as to say that its ‘Ok for men to cry’ – we need to ask why, and not blame men if they cant

    Tears are good- and it shouldn’t be judgemental for men to cry

    Its ok to acknowledge and feel the pain, when it hurts

    In fact, we need to feel it.

    Feel the pain of being unloved, neglected or abused, by parents or partner

    Feel the pain of death, grief and loss

    Feel the pain of bereavement, unemployment, and yes the disappointment of the football team.

    Its ok to feel

    Its never ok to take that feeling out on others.

    thats why we need to feel the feeling differently, by feeling it.

    Want to be a strong man? Then manage your emotions and self.

    Its not ok to try and hold things together whilst wounding everyone around.

    So…let me ask..

    Who were your emotionally aware role models? When were you given the opportunity to begin to master your emotions healthily?

    I wasnt – but were you?

    Not until therapy a few years ago.

    Where might you start now? A therapist? A book like ‘The Power of now’ – its just a start remember..but maybe start..

    Men, its ok to have emotional needs, and wants and to admit it – as it is for Women too

    Its ok to stop and feel

    Its more than ok.

    Its more than ok and be the best version of you, that is real, that feels, from deep

    Its ok to let your body feel. To let it well up, and start to feel it.

    Maybe its not that Men, or women are ok to cry – but more to clock where and when they do.

    There are those who really cant though, and if you’ve followed my stories above, you wouldn’t be surprised to know that some peoples tears ive seen are crocodile at best.

    Tears cleanse. They release. Bringing out emotion from the heart.

    Maybe thats it too. We’re ok too cry when our team is relegated, but not if we’re heart broken by loss or bereavement.

    Maybe Healing for Men is about realising that those phrases are complicated. Of course its ok that men cry, healing and being the best version of ourselves is about being closer to the pain of our bodies, our emotions, and learning to accept, feel and manage our emotions.

    And yes, often we can be in charge of others emotions, but have barely stopped to deal with our own.

    Maybe its time to not pretend that we’re ok any longer. To avoid, run or try and bulldoze our way through the pain.

    Maybe its time to start working on ourselves

    For our sake. Because we can do better.

    Because we can love ourselves, even if we’re trying to after not being loved.

    We can feel feelings too. I can feel feelings too.

    Learning to cry, and be angry…also means we can feel the happy, the joy and the pleasure alot more easily, and dont you want that in your life too?

    Our emotions can be rollercoasters, and thats ok, staying on a level plane is causing us more pain.

    Take a moment.

    To feel.

    The real you.

  • Realising that Now I can be Happy.

    If only

    If only this happened, then I would be Happy

    If I bought this, I would feel complete

    If I achieved this..It would bring me wholeness

    If someone else did well at something – I would be joyful

    If my team won- then I would be happy

    If only

    If something.

    Until the last few years I lived my life in a state of future thinking of happiness.

    Until the last few years I avoided my current state of presentness

    Until the last few years I delved deep into my inner mind workings to survive the past things.

    Mind engaged

    Feelings switched off

    Future life will sort it

    a new job, a team victory, a day out, unexpected money, success, academia…

    Living only for a future to arrive that never arrived, whilst being trapped in a mind prison of the past and having no grip on my own feelings. Was like a prison with a door that never opened, and I had no access to a key.

    An imagined future happiness, lost in the present, and fearful of dealing with a past that I had tried to switch off from.

    This will make me happy. Nope.

    This will bring moments of unexpected joy – yes, glimpses, moments.

    The one off moments that circumnavigate my ever working mind, my overthinking brain to hit me where it hurt. Briefly.

    The breakdown summer in which I cried alot.

    Did not know

    Couldn’t think my way out of it.

    Had to live from a dormant, bruised heart, that was screaming to be acknowledged.

    Yet in the moments of breakdown, the world starts to change.

    I already saw the flowers, but now they were signs of gratitude and hope, I saw what was colour in the everyday.

    The Rainbow. That appears in my flat window, as I write this.

    Feint against the grey clouds

    Moments of the now.

    Glimpses.

    Tomorrows happiness rarely came, because I expected too much of it. I needed the future to do something for me, that was impossible.

    ‘When will you be happy’? Was a question I was asked one time.

    It wasnt just slowing down that I needed to do

    It was just breathing

    It was being.

    In the moment.

    I couldn’t think my way into feeling something that had to be felt, and I am beginning to realise, that I feel in the now. It is when my mind stops and I allow myself to feel, to listen to my heart speak.

    I noticed that I stopped needing things. I enjoyed things, but didnt need them to do something beyond what it was meant to do.

    Maybe its mindlessness and not mindfulness.

    What might it mean to be fully present and in the now?

    and.. if its not now – when.. might that be for you?

    Am I excited about something happening tomorrow, or something in a month, or Christmas coming up?

    Yes, of course, but do I need that thing to make me happy?

    Healing for me, was less about understanding what happened, but about the beginnings of the undoing of what I did to cope and survive through it. Because now I’m not needing to survive and cope, I dont need tomorrow. I have today. I have now.

    And now it full of colour, its even more so when the greyness and clouds break away.

  • Avoiding emotions is like driving with brake stuck on.

    Now I’ve done therapy, I can deal with everything, all the emotions!

    So when they arrive I know exactly what to do

    Disappointment, Anger, grief, self depreciation, annoyance, frustration, tick them all off, I just sit, breathe, and let wash through me like a shower of life’s joys and gratitudes.

    Do I fuck.

    Actually, I’ll make myself busy, I’ll keep moving, tidy, wash, clean, check social media, walk a bit, check social media again, alot, get a drink, check social media again, tidy, eat, maybe go for a longer walk, Facebook distraction, water the plants, watch something else, say I’ll switch off the screen, then open it a minute later, write a cute healing phrase on twitter, when I’m talking to myself and honestly..trying not to do it myself..

    And that’s not just the things I have to do, essential tasks…like work or family stuff..

    That’s what I’ll actually do

    Until I realise

    That I’ve been ignoring, hiding, avoiding

    Life is one big distraction of avoiding us being our real selves. The emotion police.

    But after I did therapy I thought I would be emotionally competent, feeler, healed and deal with it

    Turns out, I just know what I could do, but still have to make the right choices for myself to actually do them.

    40 odd years of abuse survival avoidance habits die hard. Though they were needed, and to be thanked.

    The last thing I want to do is deal with myself, yet the rewards for doing so are so much that I wonder why I put it off.

    It’s like driving a car with a fixed on brake, the brakes can come off and it drives better without, but it’s easier to keep going brakes on and not bother stopping to get it unstuck.

    Maybe this is a good metaphor to explore more, a brake being stuck on, might not show up as a warning light on the dashboard, but its a nagging feeling that something isnt intuitively right. You may be able to drive without fixing it, or put the stereo on to not sense it, but its still there. Intuitively , gut, something is provoking to be dealt with.

    It’s only when I stop, do I start again. Every moment of silence to listen to my own heart is a space of healing.

    I know what I need to do, it just takes a while to do it sometimes.

    What are you avoiding? What am I?

  • 2 years of being able to breathe

    I realised this week that I’ve been able to breathe for 2 years now, these were the first two years I’d been able to breathe in my whole life

    I remember when I walked into the flat 25 months ago and being emotional in front of the estate agent. Realising that this was going to be my space, my space to look after, my space to look after myself in, my space , haven, calm

    My space, to make home. To light candles, listen to music, read, and enjoy life in my own pace.

    My space to determine boundaries of what I listen to, read or who I allow in

    My space to look forward to coming home to after leaving it

    My safe space

    I can breathe

    Stop and slow down

    41 years of emotionally abusive home space, with 2 in-between of working/living in houses with gap year teams, with me being the ‘responsible’ one

    2 years of being able to breathe

    2 years of being enough, 2 years of listening to my heart, 2 years of not having to revolve around the often crazy unpredictable needs of others, 2 years of being just me.

    2 years of healing from the 41 years previously

    2 years of starting to see

    Healing requires time, safety and connection, and in the process, self determination to make decisions, take control, for me about putting myself first, making decisions for my own good.

    It makes me stop and realise quite how unhealthy places are when breathing isn’t possible. When eggshells are the only floor covering and avoiding fighting or fawning conflict is the only reality. That’s not to mention lies and gaslighting, and trying to constantly work out who the crazy one is.

    It’s worth saying here, if you’re the one creating eggshells for others in your relationships, or family, through manipulation, control, bullying and neediness then maybe decide to give it up. You can change. Problem is, that you’re unlikely to read this. But…

    If you’re not breathing you’re not living, you’re just surviving. I was just surviving all my life. Ignoring every attempt of my heart to make itself known. Just surviving. Bouncing from one crisis to another. Fawning over the needy anger of toxicity.

    Breathing for 2 years, learning to be me. Realising who ‘me’ is.

    As I write I’m on holiday, camping in the rain, and up to now, my few holidays have been busy ones, climbing, walking, city breaks, and I’ve filled my days. Today I’ve tried to do what I am learning to do in my home. To stop and enjoy a ‘doing nothing’ day.

    Yes I’ve walked a short distance,but no rushing for trains , or climbing hills, just a short meander to the village a walk by the river and now just time reflecting on it as I write this, in a tent in the rain.

    In the past I realised that I struggle to slow down, in the last two years I’ve realised quite how much I’m able to slow down.

    Business was my ongoing distraction. Busy work, busy hobbies, busy. It’s no wonder that I’d wait to get ill during Christmas holidays only, when I had the time and my body relaxed. This was the pattern since childhood.

    Learning to slow down

    2 years of being in and feeling like being home.

    Safe

    Rest

    Breathe

    I’m sure I have more healing to do, as more layers are uncovered, as I listen more to my inner child, as I draw, write and play. But for now, a mark to note two years of being able to breathe, and feel new life, growth and change.

    Thank you to all friends and family alike in their support and encouragement to me in these last 2-3 years, and to Christelle whose healing, loving kindness is a joy